


Morphine

by the_fake_mona_lisa



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic), The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blood, Character Death, Crossover, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Fear of Death, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Violence, Withdrawal Symptoms, characters from Bram Stoker's Dracula, don't do drugs, frankenstein is an asshole, hyde is an asshole, minor gore, occasional cussing, references from a young doctor's notebook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fake_mona_lisa/pseuds/the_fake_mona_lisa
Summary: Edward Hyde's drug addiction takes a turn for the worst when he discovers the sweet elixir that is morphine. Henry Jekyll is already struggling with supporting the Society for Arcane Sciences, and now his violent counterpart will do anything to get a fix. Even kill.
Relationships: Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Edward Hyde & Henry Jekyll
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	1. Red as Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This idea stems from the dialogue in an episode of "A Young Doctor's Notebook" staring Daniel Radcliffe and Jon Hamm
> 
> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: Drug use and some minor gore descriptions

* * *

_  
“What are you doing?”_

“What does it look like?”

_“You don’t want to do that.”_

“Why not? Doesn’t it work?”

_“Oh no, it works.”_

“Then I’m doing it.”

_“You have no idea what you’re doing.”_

“I’m already an addict. I can handle it.”

_“No you can’t. You only think you can because you’ve never taken it.”_

“Isn’t it medicine? You give this to children.”

_“Only if I want to saw off their legs.”_

“I’m in so much pain. Cocaine isn’t enough nowadays, I need….more.”

_“Then suffer….because this is far worse.”_

“How would you know.”

….

“I have to get out of here.”

….

Edward lurched as the needle broke skin, then cerulean vein. Henry watched in petrified fascination as his counterpart agonizingly depressed the plunger down, further and further. The diluted liquid flooded through the barrel, into the hub, out the needle, and almost disgustingly sloshed into Edward’s veins. Henry innards churned with nausea. The back of the blonde man’s head fell onto the seat of the chair he slouched against. The distorted figure in the broken glass of a mirror, gazed on as the whites of Hyde’s eyes sparkled like pearls; his pupils rolling into the back of his head. The smaller man’s mouth was agape with ecstasy, his open shirt revealed droplets of sweat and dirt on his naked chest.

It was dark in that drug den, the basement of a gypsy with carpets and curtains hanging everywhere. The roof was uncomfortably low and the place was a maze. There were only candles for light and everything was tinted red, red as blood.

Jekyll couldn’t look away from the sight before him. Spindly legs moved like molasses as Edward slid further down the chair, his chins coming to rest on his chest. The rugs beneath him were red. Their patterns gave Henry a headache as he looked at the dirt and ashes that coated them in a thin layer; Edward’s attire was covered in it. The nervous man knew the blond didn’t care about the grime, about the blood, or the other sluggish people around him. Some of them looked dead. Some of them were dead. In this part of town there were far too many people being hauled out of basements with drool and blood spilling from their mouths. Eyes looking nowhere in particular. The needle and morphine bottle rested in Hyde’s openly relaxed hands. To Jekyll he almost looked like an iconic religious painting, but in euphoria. Or could it be agony? Just for a moment, Henry wondered what it was like. It must be good, if people can get addicted. He just couldn’t imagine pricking himself with a needle; he could already barely stand to do it to others. Maybe, he’d have someone do it to him, just once. To see what it felt like. An experiment of sorts. He immediately shook the immoral thought from his head. Jekyll chuckled to himself, thinking:—

_“It wouldn’t make a lick of difference. I’ve already ruined my body and mind with self inflicted ‘experiments’.”_


	2. A Vat of Jelly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Hyde's morphine addiction starts to take effect on Henry Jekyll's day to day life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: none for this chapter

* * *

Henry woke late to find himself in his own bed at the Society for Arcane Sciences, rather than that dismal basement he had last left Edward in. He dressed and hurried down steps and through halls to the kitchen. On his way Jekyll addressed his counterpart:—

“I must thank you for not staying the whole night in that Godforsaken hellhole.”

Hyde cooed, “ _Good morning my dear Henry. Were you not able to feel the effects? Do you not feel the effects of any of the drugs I take?_ ” 

“I choose not to.” Henry retorted with venom. “Unfortunately, after we transform, I get the after effects. I graciously _assume_ that you are able to block them out similar to I when you are in your astral form?” 

“ _Yes, but—_ ,” 

“Oh! I must make note of this! Remind me to do that after I breakfast,” with that Henry reached the door of the kitchen, composed himself, and burst through.

“Good morrow dear Miss Rachel, am I intruding?” Henry grinned as he noticed Jasper sitting close by on the counter top. 

“Not at all Dr. Jekyll,” she replied while tenderly pulling a baking sheet from the oven.

“Good! Well don’t mind me, I’ve just come to get a quick slice of bread with jelly then I’m off to Dr. Lanyon’s for a Society meeting and fundraiser luncheon.”

“Go right ahead, you know where everything is.”

Henry made his way briskly to the pantry and collected the items he needed, as well as letting out a strenuous sigh. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he watched the light flow across the glass of the jelly jar. Unknowingly his brow furrowed together and his smile slowly faded as he released another great sigh.

“ _Compose yourself Doctor, there’s always a crowd to please. Even if it’s your closest friends._ ”

“Cease your torment, Hyde.” Jekyll hissed through clenched teeth, while attempting to keep his voice lower than a whisper.

…. 

“I’m just always so tired.”

….

“ _Get out of this fucking closet before they suspect something you idiot!_ ” 

Henry was jolted from his thoughts and rushed into the more spacious and sun lit kitchen. He said his goodbyes to Rachel and Jasper before flying through the Society and out the door with the bread held in his mouth. 

Jekyll arrived at Robert’s house by hansom. Hopping out, he glided up the steps and knocked twice upon the great oaken door. It was immediately replied with the doctor’s butler swinging it wide for Henry to enter. The posh gentleman was led through Lanyon’s house, through the kitchen, then washroom, and out the back. The sun fell gently onto a shaded garden and quaint gazebo where Robert himself and a number of patrons were gathered for the luncheon. Robert caught sight of Henry before he made it to the gazebo, stopping the younger by his shoulder he chided:—

“Ho! Jekyll, I thought you would never come! I’ve had to bring out the platters already to keep the wealthy occupied.” Then Robert said in a more serious tone, his eyes locked with Henry’s, “your tardiness does not look so good. The future of the Society rests on your shoulders.”

A chill ran down Henry’s spine and he felt his face twitch in fearful nervousness. But it was only a twitch and the smile was back on. Grasping Robert’s hand he simpered:—

“Dearest Lanyon, do not fret! I am here now, aren’t I?” 

Smirking, Jekyll slid past an incredulous looking Lanyon and into the gazebo, greeting the pleased benefactors with open arms.

…. 

It was not too long into the luncheon when Henry started to feel odd. The weather was quite pleasant and cool, but underneath his vesture, Jekyll was starting to sweat profusely. His foot and fingers were tapping more than usual; but he brushed this off as nervousness over his perspiration. His tapping became faster and beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. 

“ _You know what this is don’t you?_ ”

Henry didn’t respond. 

“ _Don’t drop that smile now, and don’t forget to nod.”_

Jekyll watched the sponsors’ mouths move but no sounds came out. They smiled and laughed, but nothing. Everything was moving slower. Much slower. 

“ _Don’t you know what I need? What we need?_ ”

Henry’s eyes were fixated on Robert’s hands. His fluid and graceful gestures, almost like a dancer. They moved so slowly now. The once composed man could feel the muscles of his own pained expression. Alas, he managed to keep the grin.

“ _I need a fix Henry! I need one now, now, NOW!”_

The voice in his head beat against his temples.

“ _Let me out for heaven’s sake!”_

  
  
  



	3. Kill for the Thrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Hyde will do anything for morphine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence

* * *

Henry couldn’t take it anymore. He panicked as Robert turned to him; the younger man still sensed the feeling that everyone and everything was in a vat of jelly. Slow, sticky, noiseless. 

“ _Let me out!_ ”

Jekyll watched on as Robert’s face contorted from joyful to worried concern. It was all just so agonizing lethargic. The back of his friend’s hand went to his forehead and Henry flinched at the contact. 

“ _Let me out!_ ”

Cold hand against hot.

“ _Let me out!_ ”

Then there was a switch and suddenly everything was too fast. Patrons were rushing everywhere in blurred forms, strong hands were lifting Jekyll from under his arms and his sweaty back rested against a cool padded chest. 

“ _LET ME OUT!!!_ ”

All at once, it happened. As he was being half supported and half pulled through the garden into Robert’s house, Henry’s stomach churned. He pushed his heels into the floor and stopped dead in his tracks. Wrenching his neck, Henry reflected Lanyon’s panicked expression and bolted for the bathroom. Once inside he frantically jostled the skeleton key until it clicked, following that he immediately doubled over in pain. His insides bubbled and burned. Jekyll dropped to his knees. His skin melted and twisted. Jekyll fell to his side in the fetal position. Green ooze dripped from his eyes, nose, and mouth onto the tiled floor. 

Calmness washed over him. Henry watched from the mirror over the sink as Edward uncurled and stood; crudely wiping the residue onto Henry’s sleeve. 

Suddenly, fear. 

“ _How? This has never happened before! You can’t just take over when you want! You need the concoction_.”

“Not anymore it seems!” Hyde sneered. 

With that, the small man leapt out the window and ran to the east end of London. To find a fix of morphine.

…. 

“I’d prefer a five percent solution, but three percent will do just fine I suppose,” Edward pouted as he leaned far over a booth at the Blackfog Bazaar. The salesperson pushed him back by the face and shoved a three percent solution bottle into his hand. 

“Get out o’ ‘ere ye wanker!” The man shouted after him as he skipped through the crowd of people. 

“ _Just stay quiet and walk away_.”

“Lovely doing business with you too!” Hyde shouted back; ignoring Henry.

Suddenly a bottle went flying over his head and shattered against a nearby wall. Edward turned around with lustful revenge. A sickening smile plastered on his face as he shouted back:—

“You almost knocked my hat off you bloody—,” another bottle. Hyde dodged.

“ _No, don’t fight him!_ ”

Flying with arms outstretched and claws unsheathed, Edward knocked the salesman to the ground. A crowd had started to gather.

Cackling and holding him down by the collar, Edward avoided punches left and right, the dealer blindly threw fists. Then he noticed a crate near the salesperson’s booth. The dealer noticed his gaze, petrified with fear, he ceased the fighting. Edward sneered:—

“What is this I see? A whole box of five percent solution morphine? Why yes it is! Ah, happy days!” Hyde’s eyes glazed over as he let go of the dealer and picked up the foot by foot box in his arms. “I think I’ll be taking this, you _fucking_ liar!” He shouted into the salesman’s face as he crushed their fingers under his boot heel. His expression was livid and his body shook with anger. A few onlookers gasped in shock as the dealer screamed out in pain.

“Ye addicts are all the same. Ye do anythin’ to get a fix,” the man retorted from his position on the ground. 

This stopped Edward dead in his tracks. “What did you say?” He spun around on his heel.

“Ye heard me,” he spat, blood mixed with the spit. 

“ _Hyde…._ ”

Edward gently set down the box, a small grin played on his mouth and a crazed look flickered in his green eyes. He bent down over the dealer. Hyde’s hand shot out and roughly seized their face in a tight grip. His claws creating puncture marks in the man’s cheeks and chin. 

“I’m not afraid of you.” The salesperson glared and spit into Edward’s face.

“You should be.” Hyde threatens, his expression gravely serious as he licks the blood and spit off around his mouth. His hands tenderly placed on either side of the man’s head.

“ _Don’t do it!_ ”

There was a sickening crack and loud gasps and screams from the crowd. 

Edward was gone, and with him, his box.


	4. Doomsday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll attempts to get rid of the morphine while simultaneously trying to keep Edward Hyde out of the hands of the police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: none for this chapter

* * *

“Hyde what have you done? Scores of people saw you and now your face is plastered on every building and street corner in London! Oh God, the reputation of the Society is doomed! I am doomed….” Henry paced the floor of his study in agitation. His hands fidgeted so furiously that he was on the edge of wringing them raw. 

“ _Calm yourself, Jekyll. You'll find a way to get me out of this, you always do_.” Hyde brushed off lackadaisical. 

“Not. This. Time.” Jekyll spat, locking eyes with the reflection of Edward in a mirror.

Stepping to the window, Henry flung open the drapes to see the busy city street below. “I don't know what to do anymore. You've never killed anyone. And all for morphine? Hyde, if this gets any deeper I may have to end this, for good. And you very well know what that means,” Henry jeered. 

“ _Now, now Jekyll. I don’t think we’ll ever have to go that far_ ,” Edward desperately pleaded. 

“Don’t tempt me.” 

Henry met Edward’s gaze. Following it, he turned and looked at the small box in the centre of the room. Jekyll gulped. It was an ordinary shipping box. One foot by one foot, and made of pine planks. The top was open, but it was packed with straw to prevent the bottles breaking. Henry couldn’t see the contents from where he stood. On each side was printed, in bold black letters, ‘FRAGILE’, with an arrow pointing up. Jekyll didn’t realize he was holding his breath, he let it out. He couldn’t look away from the box, it was as if he was looking at the angel of death taking the life of his future self. Henry broke his trance:—

“I need to get rid of this, it’s evidence.”

“ _Jekyll, no!”_

“Why not? With this you’re just incriminating yourself.”

“ _Do you know what’s in there? Ten single ounce bottles of five percent premium grade morphine. If we’re not going to use it we might as well sell it, but save me a bottle.”_

“No.”

“ _But you're always saying the Society needs money! This would be an excellent way to rake some dough in_.”

“For heaven's sake, no! I will not reduce myself to drug dealing just to keep the Society afloat. Besides, you’re changing the subject, we have to dispose of this rubbish.”

“ _Sell it._ ”

“No! We need to….Burn it! No, it would just explode into a fiery death trap. I have it, I’ll ask the lodgers!”

“ _And how will you do that? ‘Hello dearest lodgers, I just need something to dispose of ten ounces of morphine that won’t cause it to explode, any ideas?’ Yeah, real intelligent doctor_.”

“Oh, you're right….”

“ _You could sell it to the hospital.”_

“You are so thick sometimes. No! They would turn me in! Do you know how suspicious that looks? Besides, they can match fingerprints too, and all that forensic science would be our doom.” 

….

“Oh God, Hyde! We’re dead!” 

“ _Don’t say that, we’ll figure some_ —,”

The door burst open and with one swift movement Henry kicked the box, sliding it under his bed. He then realized his pain and sat on his chair to hold his shoe, cursing under his breath. It was Lanyon who stepped into the room, gently closing the door behind him as he said:—

“Henry, are you well? I came to inquire about the luncheon fiasco. You'll be pleased to hear that the patrons took pity on your ill state and donated quite grand sums of money. Are you okay?” 

“I am not okay!” He shouted with frustration, “I’m sorry. I don’t want them to _pity_ me,” venom and irritation in his words. “It makes me feel weak and small. Don’t they realize that I build the Society from the ground with my own two hands? Metaphorically of course.” The two shared a small chuckle. 

Robert took a small step towards Henry from where he stood, “Henry, there’s something else. I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but—Hyde killed a man.”

Jekyll was at his wits end, he couldn’t even act surprised so he let his foot slip from his knee, bent over and smothered his face in his hands. He could feel the tension of Robert’s awkwardness for emotional situations as Henry whispered:—

“I'm ruined Robert, the Society is dead.”

“Now Henry, we’ll figure out a way to fix this. I suggest you turn Hyde in, all he does is cause you and this establishment pain.”

Henry could feel that Lanyon had that response ready, of course he would want to convict Hyde, he loathed the man. Even if the two had never met. Henry spoke:—

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Robert’s response was curt.

“I….I—I don’t know where he lives.”

“Well we can find that out easily enough! Come, we’ll look at his files, then if an address isn’t listed there we’ll go to the police. If they haven’t attempted to find his location already.” 


	5. Dance With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Hyde is safe from the law for now, but the morphine withdrawal symptoms are taking a toll on Henry Jekyll. Maybe a friend can bring some joy to Henry's foreseeable darkening existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: implied drug use

* * *

Jekyll and Lanyon _did_ find Hyde’s address in their files at the Society, but when they visited the apartment in Soho, there was no one. Word circled round eventually, that even the police couldn’t find him. It all fades away with time, but Henry was tormented. 

He had only allowed Hyde out a few times since the murder and that was only so the poor man could get his fix. Jekyll was content with this because he knew Edward wouldn’t be running off anywhere; since they had the morphine and that was all he wanted nowadays. Henry had never disposed of the box, it seemed as if there was nothing he could really do, and he had to keep Hyde content. In the police report of the murder they had also recorded a very accurate description of the box. Even though one among hundreds, it was still incriminating, and downright sinful for a man of his class to have morphine if he was not a medical doctor. Henry had also let Edward out due to the fact that the withdrawal symptoms were getting progressively worse, so when Hyde had his fix, the high was even pleasant for Jekyll. He let himself dip his toe in once or twice, feeding off Hyde’s stimuli and rapture. The good doctor knew that each time his counterpart injected himself with the poison, he was gradually becoming more and more addicted, causing Henry’s want to dispose of the withdrawal symptoms even greater. Soon it was not just Edward that needed the fix, but Henry as well. 

….

It was the Lanyon’s annual, spring, Hunt Ball and all Henry could do was stand off to the side in a dimly lit corner of the great hall as he watched the bubbles swirl around in his champagne. It had been a few days since Jekyll had let Hyde out for his morphine dose. He was attempting to make an effort of overcoming the withdrawal while Hyde’s voice screeched in his head constantly for another fix. 

Henry stared up at the high arched ceilings and closed his eyes. He tried to focus on his breathing, but cold sweat trickled down his spine and his foot tapped furiously on the marble floor. The orchestra was too loud, Henry was too tired, and the movements of the dancers made him sway with nausea. His muscles ached as if someone was tightly and constantly squeezing every single one of them with a force much stronger than his own will. He was just so tired. 

“ _Just one more, Henry. Then I’ll be done and we can go clean_ ,” Hyde’s voice pleaded desperately inside his head. 

“No, we must overcome this now, I know it’s painful. More so for me than you, you little rat,” Jekyll hummed under his breath. 

“ _I hate you! I hate you so much!_ ”

“Henry?” Jekyll was roused from his daze and met the deep hickory of Robert Lanyon’s eyes. His ruddy cheeks were dusted with freckles and his brow was knit with concern. “Henry you don’t look well. Are you ill again? Here, come outside with me and get some fresh air,” Robert took the glass from his hand and set it on a nearby buffet table. He then looped his arm through Jekyll’s and led him out of a side door in the cathedral. 

The air was nice, cool and refreshing in the shade of a cluster of great willow trees. The garden path wound itself like a lazy stream around the grounds of the cathedral-like dance hall. Lanyon led the disoriented man to a shaded stone bench before he passed out. Robert looked him over with mild concern, Henry couldn’t meet his gaze as he fiddled with the hem of his vest; hands tight in his lap. His friend spoke:—

“Henry you look miserable. You’re pale and sweaty, but you’re cold to the touch,” with that, Robert gently wrapped his dancer’s hands around Jekyll’s, ceasing his fidgeting. “You’re so cold.”

….

“Are you dying?”

“For heaven's sake Robert! No, I’m not dying. I’m just sick, I’ll recover here soon,” Henry hesitated. 

….

Henry smiled, “The orchestra sounds considerably nicer out here. It was much too loud for me in the hall.”

“Would you care to dance?” Robert asked. The younger man was taken aback and he finally looked into his friend’s eyes. Those soft warm eyes, and dark curls framing his golden face. And his hands, his graceful alluring hands. They wrapped around his own and guided Henry to his feet. 

Robert positioned himself opposite to the confused man, he swung his arm high into the air with a teasing smile, and came down into an exaggeratedly low bow. Henry humored him with a quite feminine curtsy. He took his ill friend’s clammy hand and pulled him in tight, arm wrapped around his waist as Robert pulled Henry even closer. He turned elegantly, their hearts beating in time with the slow tempo of the waltz. They floated through the garden as one, never looking at anything but each other. Robert would smile and it would bring color to Henry’s cheeks, causing him to let out a small breathy laugh. The music became faster. Jekyll chased Lanyon’s quick feet with his own, like a hound hunting a fox; his hand tightening its grip on his friend’s as their arms pulled taught. Robert spun Henry out and reeled him back in like a top. The force brought their hips together, both breathing hard, hearts beating quickly, eyes searching. Before the fiery heat of passion brought their faces closer, Robert spun Henry back out into their previous position. Lanyon’s movements were affectionate, yet there was a harshness to him, focused and determined. 

It was all ruined in an instant with Hyde’s aggravation, “ _Ah, bliss. Dear Lanyon doesn’t know who you really are. A mad scientist and a drug addict. Why are you sick Jekyll? What’s the real reason? Go on tell him, watch his face twist in disgust and watch him throw you to the ground and stomp away forever. You know it’s all too good to be true, how could a man like him ever love a man like you._ ”

At the word ‘love’ Henry pushed himself away from Robert in anguished horror, immediately doubling over and throwing up into a nearby rose bush. He had never admitted his feeling to himself or anyone for that matter, but Hyde. Hyde knows him, Hyde _is_ him. It could have been the self confession or the morphine that made him vomit, but either way he found himself on his knees dry heaving in a cold sweat with a gentle hand on his back. Tears started to pour uncontrollably from Henry’s eyes, he tried to wipe them away with shaking gray hands before Robert noticed, but they just kept coming. 

  
“Henry, you're crying! Are you alright? Please tell me what’s going on, I can help. Or at least try to,” Robert panicked as he slid his arms around Henry’s back and attempted to pull him to his feet. He sat his friend on a bench and knelt down to look up at the bent form; Robert’s hands resting on the younger’s knees. Lanyon wiped away tears from the pale cheeks, noticing there was no expression of sadness on Henry’s face and tears were just streaming from his eyes. “You _are_ dying….stay here, I’ll go fetch my father’s cab so I can take you back to the Society. I’ll be back.” Lanyon ran off through the garden, leaving a scared and tormented child.


	6. Run Robert Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Hyde convinces Henry Jekyll that friends are best left behind. Henry cannot take the torment of Hyde and the withdrawal anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: implied suicide attempt

* * *

The ride back to the Society was dismal at best. Henry laid upon Robert’s lap, wide eyed and stiff as a board, as Hyde whispered self doubt and judgment. Lanyon had taken a back door to the Society as not to draw any attention to the two men. He bathed Jekyll, then dressed him in his sleep wear, and tucked him into bed. He placed the washbasin on the floor near the head of the bed in case his ill friend had to be sick again. Robert pulled an arm chair close and watched his friend. 

Henry was quick to fall asleep but not before Hyde made his last remark:—

“ _He coddles you like a mother does a helpless babe. Why? He has done everything for you, but you have done nothing for him. His family bathes you in money, he practically built the Society, he cares for you when you're ill, he runs pointless errands, helps you with your studies, and he woos the elite just for you. You are the one that has beat and broken this man like a workhorse. Is that what he is to you? You must stop tormenting him, tell him to leave, to save himself, tell him.”_

….

Jekyll felt warmth on his eyelids. He opened them just a crack and looked out to see his open window and the light from the morning sun streaming through. It was pleasant, he never wanted to leave his bed as he basked in the warmth. He opened his eyes more and saw Robert slouched in his armchair, book in hand. Then the events from the previous day came flooding into his mind, he couldn’t believe he slept an entire day away, wishing secretly he could sleep for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes again but not before Lanyon noticed he was awake. Hastening from his chair, his friend rushed over and helped Henry to sit up slowly:—

“Here,” Robert handed him a glass of water he had prepared, then set to dabbing away beads of sweat from Henry’s forehead with a towel as he supported him with an arm around his back.

Jekyll resentfully recalled Edward’s words from the day before. He didn’t know if he could hurt his closest friend this way, but Henry was convinced he was the one hurting Lanyon. His mind was much too tired to argue or disagree with Hyde. He shifted as Edward whispered words of encouragement to force his friend to leave, no matter what it took. He finished the glass of water and said to Robert, his voice horse and his hands shaking:—

“Thank you for your care, Robert, but I would appreciate it if you left.”

Lanyon’s hand stopped rubbing circles over the damp fabric of Jekyll’s nightwear and he lifted the towel from his forehead. The younger did not look at his friend as he said in the sternest tone he could muster:—

“I would just like to be left alone, I—I have no need for you anymore.”

“ _Good, now he can be rid of you and your obligatory demands_.”

Robert stood in disbelief, wringing the towel with impatient annoyance in his hands “Henry, what is this nonsense? You must certainly be ill if you are rejecting my help! Just let me—,”

Lanyon huffed with a tense smile flickering on his face, he took a step to brush Henry’s hair from his sticky forehead.

“ _Don’t let him help_ , _you have hurt him too much already_.”

With sudden force and speed, Jekyll’s hand shot up to grab Lanyon’s wrist before his hand could touch him. The two were stiff. Henry raised his head and bore the most hateful look he could muster at his friend, who’s own eyes shone with the tears and face tortured into a look of utter fear and grief. Henry snarled, his eyes flicking green:—

“Leave.”

….

He released Robeter’s wrist, who grasped it as he dropped the towel, took a few steps backward, then fled from the room in haste. Henry broke down in utter regret and distress once the door slammed shut. Tears, withdrawal and sadness, poured from his bloodshot eyes and he heaved and gulped for air. “What have I done! What have I done!” He cried as he let his body slide from his bed onto the floor. With his face pressed into the sheets of his bed, he pulled at the fabric desperately in anguish. His great sobs were muffled by the blankets and so was his voice when he choked:—

“What have I done, Hyde? What have _you_ done?”

“ _You can’t blame me! You knew it was for the best and you did it._ ”

“Everything is always your fault.” Jekyll said, half ignoring Edward’s retort as he wailed. 

Hyde was silenced. Henry had managed to break the black heart just a small fissure, letting the truth of his actions seep in. He would not tell Henry this. He would not apologize. But he would stay silent. It was the best he could do in the moment. It was his fault when he burned down the society, it was his fault they were addicted to morphine, it was his fault that Frankenstein was here, and it was his fault Lanyon hated Jekyll now. 

It seemed like ages, but eventually Henry’s sobs subsided. All Edward could hear from the smothered head was small sniffles. Jekyll raised and turned to lean his back against his bed, he messily wiped his runny nose and eyes with the back of his hands. He looked miserable. Bloodshot eyes, face wet from tears, sweat, and nose, deathly pale face, goosebumps, and he was shivering all over. Hyde pitied him. Jekyll doubled over and kneaded his stomach with his palms, releasing pained groans. His insides curched, and his muscles felt like they were exceedingly too tight, he was too cold, but he was sweating, and his stomach burned with cramping. 

“I can’t take this anymore,” Henry choked. 

He turned to his bedside table and with quivering hands, wrenching open the small drawer. Jekyll fumbled around the contents, retrieving a Salvador Dormus, semi-automatic pistol. 


	7. The Glass Scientist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morphine isn't always the best answer, Edward Hyde finally realizes this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: drug use

* * *

Jekyll tossed the gun over his shoulder and it bounded onto the bed. He revisited the contents of the small drawer and desperately rummaged through its miscellanea once again. Then, with tender care, he produced a small wooden box. Henry heaved a shaky sigh of relief. Stealing a moment to collect himself, his clammy hand shot back into the drawer. Taking his hand out once again, he brought with it a modest sized, cinnamon tinted glass bottle. It’s smooth surface glinted in the sunlight as Jekyll turned it in hand. A wretched hysterical smile flitted across the pale face. Hyde, in tense silence, watched from his reflection in a mirror opposite Henry. Edward spoke:—

“ _What are you doing?_ ”

“What does it look like?”

Quickly snapping open the small box, Henry started assembling a clear glass syringe. His hands were shaking with sickness, desperation, and excitement. 

“ _You don’t want to do that_.”

“Why not? Doesn’t it work?”

“ _Oh no, it works_.”

“Then I’m doing it.”

“ _You have no idea what you’re doing_.”

“I’m a doctor! I can handle it.” 

“ _No you can’t. You only think you can because you’ve never taken it_.”

“It’s medicine, I—I give this to children.”

“ _Only if you want to saw off their legs_.”

“I’m in so much pain!”

“ _Then suffer….because this is far worse_.”

…. 

“ _It will take you to a lush meadow at the height of summer, you will lie down in the soft grass and bask in the sun and feel nothing but bliss. And you will never want to return to this dark pisshole in the fog_.”

“I have to get out of here.”

….

“ _It will never be this good again_.”

Hyde’s apparition floated from the mirror as he watched Henry methodically, tip the bottle, and fill the glass syringe. Jekyll stretched out his arm onto his lap and placed the needle gently over his median cubital vein. He took a breath then pierced his skin. Both watched as Henry painstakingly pushed the plunger further down the barrel. Henry held his breath, then, when all the liquid was in his bloodstream, his hands fell to his sides and he sighed. Laying his head back onto his bed, Jekyll closed his eyes and hummed in content; a fleeting peaceful smile playing on his lips. 

Edward Hyde broke.

Floating nearer to Henry, he wrapped his unfeeling, unfelt, ghostly hands around his counterpart’s head and he wept in silence. Hyde cursed himself over and over, his apparition mixed with hues of red and blue. Anger and sadness. 

“ _Oh, what have I done? What have I done!”_

….

Jekyll rode the rest of the evening in a pleasurable morphine high. He helped Rachel to prepare dinner for the lodgers, he dined with them as well, and he completely forgot about his exchange with Robet. In fact, he completely forgot about Robert all together and just pushed all memories of the man into the back of his mind.

Lastly, Henry made his way to Frankenstein’s room to give her her medicine. The night was growing dark when he lightly knocked upon the door. Usually he loathed these encounters with the wretched woman, but the morphine kept him floating in the clouds. There was a low voice:—

“Enter.”

He came in and was greeted by a solum looking Creature reading to a bed ridden Frankenstein. 

“My, my dear doctor. You look quite pleased,” Frankenstein retorted. 

“I must say I am. Are you ready for your medicine?”

“Never.”

“Good! Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Jekyll handed Frankenstein a flask of a bluish tinted liquid and watched her gulp it down with a twisted expression of disdain. She spoke:—

“Jekyll, dear. I’m in quite a lot of pain as of now, do you have anything to help ease my suffering? Morphine, perhaps?”

Henry froze. His smile twitched. He curtly retorted, “No I do not. I’m sorry but you'll just have to _suffer_ like the rest of us.”


	8. Tipping Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The encounter with Frankenstein leave Henry Jekyll on edge. He does something that even surprises Edward Hyde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: Drug use

* * *

Jekyll left Frankenstein’s room in a fit of rage. The two always ended their encounters with a fight and Henry in low spirits. He stomped up to his room, fuming as he addressed Hyde:—

“God, she’s always so—so difficult, Hyde!”

Edward did not respond.

“Hyde?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Damn, I thought you had just disappeared forever. Why so quiet as of late, is something the matter?” Jekyll burst into his office, interrupting the beginning of a statement from Edward. “I’m so infuriated with that damned woman, I need a way to calm down.” Henry reached for the bottle and small wood box on his bedside table and pulled his armchair to face the window; plopping into the seat. 

“ _Jekyll! Don’t do it.”_

“Since when did you care? Why don’t you tap into my high and enjoy it with me, that’s all you want, isn’t it?

….

Edward watched mutely from his distorted reflection in the window as a more confident Henry prepared his fix. Needle slipped effortlessly into vein as the translucent liquid was pumped into the bloodstream. Jekyll sighed and tipped his head back, eyes closed. Then Hyde’s counterpart did something unexpected. He overturned the bottle again and pulled more of the sweet elixir into the glass syringe. 

“ _Henry!_ ” They rarely ever used each other’s first names, this tugged Jekyll from his focused daze just slightly. “ _You can’t handle more, you’ll kill yourself._ ”

“I can handle it!” The doctor had convinced himself he could. “I need more,” Henry growled, his eyes flitting green. Edward was suspended in shock. _That_ was not him. _That_ was Henry. Flaming green eyes locked with flaming green eyes as Jekyll pressed the needle through his lush skin. 

“ _Oh God. Oh God! You’re going to DIE Henry!_ ” Hyde started to weep as he whimpered, “ _I’m going to die._ ”

The last of the morphine was squeezed out of the syringe. Henry’s hands fell open, letting the bottle and needle fall to the floor, both shattering. The broken glass lay shimmering in the sun as the remaining liquid in the bottle snuck across the floor. Henry’s head was tipped over the back of his chair and his mouth was agape, with small contented sounds escaping it. His eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing steadied. 

“ _Why would you do this to me? Why would you do this to yourself?”_ Edward shouted and pleaded as he attempted to get a reaction out of his counterpart.

“ _Why would you do this to Robert?_ ”

Henry’s eyes snapped open, but it was too late. His body convulsed, back arching, body going rigid, feet sliding over broken glass and liquid as he struggled for purchase. Jekyll let out a wickedly tortured scream, then his voice cracked and dissipated. 

Everything went dark.


	9. The Devil's Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert Lanyon comes back to the Society to fix things with Henry Jekyll, unfortunately he discovers something about his friend he wish he hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: None for this chapter

* * *

Robert has mustered the courage to revisit Henry and mend their bond. He found himself shifting from one leg to the other on the great marble steps of Society for Arcane Sciences in front of the great oaken doors. Lanyon held his breath as he pushed through, into the brightly lit foyer. As he hastily made his way to Jekyll’s study, a number of joyous lodgers greeted him on his way. Robert sheepishly waved and cracked a smile. Before he had managed to reach his friend’s room, Rachel came spinning out of the kitchen carrying a covered platter. The two nearly collided but not before Robert curtly stepped aside and grabbed Rachel by her shoulders, preventing her whole body from contact with the floor. She turned to Lanyon, flustered, and said loudly:—

“I’m so sorry Dr. Lanyon! I did not see you there.”

“It is quite alright my dear girl, have—,” he was once again interrupted in his task of getting to Henry when a second, much hairier form, collided with him as it flew out of the kitchen. Rachel leapt back with a squeal and the platter high over her head. 

Lanyon was not able to dodge this time and was taken forcibly to the ground. He landed on his behind with a half transformed Jasper above him. Robert snapped:— 

“Get off me you brute!”

“Oh, Dr. Lanyon! I’m so sorry, so very sorry! Here, let me help you!” Jasper pleaded with nervousness and tears in his eyes. He stood quickly and attempted to collect Robert and put him on his feet but the bothered doctor pushed him away with a snarl. 

The timid Jasper stood slightly behind Rachel with his head down. Lanyon got to his feet, straightening and smoothing down his waistcoat. He stood high with his shoulders back and his nose in the air. Composing himself he addressed the two:—

“Now you two _children_ should be more careful,” he quipped. 

“We’re frightfully sorry, sir. We were just—,” Rachel was cut short when a wickedly tortured scream echoed through the open chamber of the Society. All three turned to where it came and a few lodgers poked their heads out of doors and gathered in the hall.

“Henry.” Lanyon voiced. 

He ran.

“Get out of my way your fools!” Robert shouted as he clambered over and pushed through the lodgers who’s population in the hall was ever increasing, antagonizing the doctor even more. He was in sight of the oh so familiar door that was Henry’s study, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw that Ito, Frankenstein, and the Creature were already prepared to ravage. Lanyon shouted at the top of his lungs, “STOP!” Ito’s hand snapped away from the handle so fast it looked as if she burned herself upon it. 

“Why.” Frankenstein challenged. Robert stomped over, standing high above her and looking down as he spoke with threatening confidence:—

“Because you do not know him at all.”

Lanyon was never the man to care if he got his hands dirty, and his lack of patients led to almost dangerous situations when he was younger. Now that his reputation was on the line, he had to watch himself, but he would go through hell and back for Henry, so he turned back to Frankenstein and shoved her. She tumbled into the Creature with an utter look of surprise and disdain. Robert glanced down the way he had came and saw fearful looks on the young faces of Rachel and Jasper. He’s expression melted into regret as he looked down at his hand on the door knob. 

He turned it.

….

Robert cautiously stepped into the room, making sure to lock the door behind him. Henry was sitting in his armchair, his back to Lanyon. He lightly stalked across the falsetto wood floor, only when he stepped on a piece, did he notice the broken glass under his shoe. The doctor glanced up and inspected his friend’s position more closely. Henry was sitting, but his head was tilted onto the back of the chair and his arms hung limpy at his sides. Lanyon rushed to his friend and held his still pale face in his shaking hands. He started to cry as he fumbled to pull up Jekyll's sleeve, placing two fingers on the cold inside of his wrist, searching for a pulse. Robert started to panic, there wasn’t one, he scoured Henry’s neck. 

There it was! Faint, but there. He laughed breathily with relief and sunk down to rest his head on his friend’s lap. The older doctor took the younger’s hands in his and pressed them to his face and lips. Something then glinted in Robert’s peripheral vision. He turned his attention to the glass shards scattered across the floor, there was a liquid too. Just now noticing it was soaking his pant legs. He scanned the floor and saw the needle of a glass syringe, he twisted his body and set his hand on the floor to reach it. Lanyon whispered to himself in confusion:—

“What….”

Subsequently, Robert spied a rather large piece of glass with an adhesive label. As he reached for that he unknowingly cut his other hand on the glass beneath it. Lanyon sat criss-cross on the floor as he turned the glass over with both hands to see what it read. He held his breath in apprehension. It read:—

“Five percent morphine; one ounce.” 

“What?” Robert repeated. He sat there, on the floor, like a child trying to read on it’s own for the first time. “I—I don’t understand.” 


	10. What was Thought to be Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll and Robert Lanyon have a heart to heart, of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: None for this chapter

* * *

Henry’s eyes cracked open to a blinding whiteness. He noticed he was sitting, his back against something warm and plush. Maybe this was heaven. There was a kind weight around his middle and something pressed up against his legs. He brushed his hands over the object that was around his abdomen and found it was soft, soft skin. Jekyll felt around, following an arm and slipping both his hands around one hand. He looked down and saw those tanned dancer’s hands that he loved so much. 

He loved them. He loved Robert Lanyon. 

The other hand left Henry’s middle and came up to massage his scalp. He leaned into the touch and let out a soft contented sound, closing his eyes. His boney back resting on Robert’s rising and falling chest. Their legs parallel. Gently opening his eyes, Henry took in his surroundings; he was dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and pants, resting on a white bed, the long walls around him were white, and the light coming in through a floor length window opposite was bright white as well. Maybe it _was_ heaven. He turned his head to rest in the crook of Robert’s neck, nuzzling his cold nose against the warmth of his friend’s body. Henry shifted to his side, sliding his shoulder under Robert’s arm and placing his hand gingerly on his lapel. The older doctor took the cold hand back into his own and raised it to his lips. Henry let him kiss his palm as he moved it over Lanyon’s cheek to cradle his face. Jekyll noticed that his companion’s freckled cheeks were damp. Raising his head, he looked up at the man’s face. 

Robert’s features glistened with tears. He turned away from the shift of Henry’s expression that went from tranquil to distraught. Lanyon tenderly pursued to remove Jekyll’s hand from his face, but he only helped his friend to turn it. Henry’s paled russet eyes searched the teary chocolate ones. The fixated connection and proximity brought something to the forefront of Robert’s mind, he broke with a sob; eyes tightly shut and hands clinging fiercely to the fabric of his companion’s shirt. 

Pulling himself up, Henry let Robert rest his head on his chest as he pulled him into a stable hug. The two held so tightly together that one would believe they could never be separated. That much was true. Lanyon’s voice was low and horse when he spoke:—

“I’m so sorry, Henry. I should have been there for you when you needed me. This is all my fault! I was so foolish and couldn’t see past my own problems to perceive your suffering, I—,”

“ _I’m so sorry Henry. I should have been there for you when you needed me. This is all my fault! I’m a monster! A selfish monster._ ”

“No. None of this is your fault. I brought this upon myself. I created this problem. I created you.”

“What?” Robert sobbed, as he wiped away tears. 

“ _I don’t want to die, Henry. Please don’t kill me!”_

“Robert, I could never be cross with you.” Jekyll said, rubbing his thumb over his friend’s cheek. 

“ _I swear on my grave I will never torment you again and I will abide by your rules and go out only when you let me!”_

Robert’s expression turned grave, “Why?”

“I—I can’t stop fighting with myself. The battles I’ve lost have taken a heavy toll on me and I needed to escape….”

_“Henry, please! Please….”_

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to be a burden.”

_“I’m sorry I’m such a burden.”_

“How could you think that?”

“Because I _have_ been a burden to you your whole life! Don’t you see? You shower me with money you don’t have and the Society is weighing you down constantly—,”

Robert almost shouted, causing Jekyll to flinch. “Henry! Do not think such nonsensical thoughts! I would have left you much earlier if that was the case, but I’m still here aren’t I?” Jekyll nodded with a blush dusting his cheeks. 

_“Henry, please….”_

He shivered, “The voices, Robert. They torture me. I cannot sleep and I cannot eat. They did this to me.”

_“How could you do this to me, you bastard!”_ Hyde screamed like a child in a tantrum. _“I said I was sorry! Is that not enough?”_ Henry shook his head. 

“They have ruined my life.” 

Edward’s laugh was crazed and nervous, _“What_ — _what can I do to make you let me survive?”_

“SHUT UP!” Henry screeched, closing his eyes tight and pulling on his hair. He was done, done with Hyde, done with people caring, done with life. 

“Henry! Oh God! Don’t hurt yourself!” Robert rushed to pull his hysterical friend’s fingers from his hair and cradled him in his arms. The tightness of Lanyon’s arms around his body made him go limp. He wailed:—

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry….” 

Robert shushed the forlorn man, and Hyde fell silent, knowing the apology was to him as well. His childlike countenance broke once again and he cried. Edward finally saw what he had done and regretted his existence for the first time since his birth. He had no reason to live and Henry had no reason to be sorry. 

….

A door opened and three figures stepped into the white room. 


	11. The Ballad of Dr. Seward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll and Robert Lanyon meet John Seward, Abraham, and Arthur Holmwood from Bram Stoker's Dracula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: None for this chapter

* * *

The young man in the lead wore a white surgeon's coat and had a tousled mane of dark hair that curled around his bright eyes. The two gentlemen behind him sported day wear and looked as sorely out of place as their mannerisms revealed. One of the men was of a similar age to the latter, his light haired pulled back, and his shoes shifting restlessly over the polished floor as he looked around. The third man was strongly built with his shoulders back and a kindly interested smile on his ruddy face. His bushy eyebrows came together over blue eyes as both he and the young man in the surgeon’s coat inspected Henry and Robert. The man in the white coat step forward and spoke:—

“Good day, Dr. Jekyll, Dr. Lanyon. Dr. John Seward, at your service.”

Robert, collecting himself, pulled away from Henry and stood to shake the doctor’s hand. The ill man’s hands followed Lanyon as he left the bed, then curled in on himself when the contact was lost. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Seward,” Robert had put on the mask of a delighted posh gentleman as he went to shake the hands of the other gentlemen. 

“Arthur Holmwood,” the young man with the light hair introduced himself. 

“Hello, Dr. Lanyon! Dr. Seward has told me much about you, I am Dr. Abraham Van Helsing,” Van Helsing beamed as he vigorously shook Robert’s hand. 

“I fancy all good things?” Lanyon chuckled, putting on an act. He caught Dr. Seward’s icy eyes watching him with scrutiny, he looked away quickly as Van Helsing replied:—

“Oh, quite! Quite.”

Dr. Seward spoke, “I hope it is quite alright if these two gentlemen join me, they have been visiting and studying the patients with me on my rounds.” Robert was just about to reply when a faint voice spoke up from behind him:—

“Studying? Robert, what’s going on?” Jekyll’s voice was laced with quivering distress. 

“Oh Henry,” Lanyon moved to sit on the bed, stroking his friends hair and rubbing his thumb over the back of a cold hand. He turned back to the three men, “Would it be alright if I took a moment to explain the situation to Henry?” Dr. Seward nodded curtly, beckoned for the other to follow him and walked out the door without closing it. Robert watched them leave them turned back to his friend. Both their faces full of sorrow. “My dear….do you remember what happened not but two days ago?” There was a silence as Henry turned away from Robert with a look of guilt. “Dr. Seward offered to aid you in your treatment—,”

“Treatment?” Jekyll looked back up at Robert with tears in his eyes. 

His friend quickly responded, “I had my doubts at first too, but that was when I was trying to find a humane asylum.”

“Asylum!” 

“Henry, no! This is not St. Mary’s of Bethlehem or Le Bicetre where you’re sitting in your own _piss_ ,” Henry flinched at Robert’s harshness who immediately added with softness, “This is a good place with good people. Dr. Seward is a kind and studious soul, and if it helps, he was a student of Van Helsing’s.” Robert paused. “They took interest in you, Henry. Yes, in your medical case, but your mind as well. They see you as a doctor and not a patient. Dr. Seward and Van Helsing take interest in you because they _want_ you to recover, they’re far from the soulless lunatics that run places like Bedlam who lock you in isolation.” Henry curled into Robert who rested his chin on his friend’s head, stroking his hair. “I can visit you whenever I please and I’m a part of your treatment. Dr. Seward said you must preoccupy yourself with things that make you happy. I know _you_ make _me_ happy.” 

“What is my treatment?” The shivering man whispered into Lanyon’s chest. 

“Oh, Henry. The only cure for you is time.”

….

Only Dr. Seward entered, his timing perfect, with a wooden stool that he set near the bed. “Dr. Jekyll,” he started, glancing at a concerned Robert with a look of sensitivity. “As Dr. Lanyon must have told you, there is no medicinal cure for recovering from a morphine addiction.” Henry shrunk at the word. “You will have to stay here until you fully recover. I don’t know if you've experienced any withdrawal symptoms as of late—,” Henry nodded weakly. “Ah. Then you must know how insufferable it can be. We’ll try to keep you as distracted as we can, but at times, it may just be best if you had moments to yourself.” Dr. Seward adjusted himself on the stool, “Now, this will be your room, and since you're not mentally ill, you will be able to access any rooms that are not locked in this house, except for at night. It is for the safety of everyone that we have everyone in their rooms by evening. The garden is open to you as well, but you are not allowed, under any circumstances, to leave the building. It would be quite hard for you to try, since all exits are hidden in halls and locked. Please do not be tempted to break any windows for means of escape, as you would not be able to and would just end up hurting yourself.” Dr. Seward quickly added, “Full meals will be three times a day, morning, noon and night and water is always readily available.” He gestured to a small sink in a corner of the room with a wood cup, seeing Robert’s questioning gaze he added. “We can’t have breakable glass in this facility….”

“What of Robert?” Henry’s voice cracked. 

“Ah yes.” Dr. Seward continued, “Dr. Lanyon has access to this house and your room all hours of the day and night. He will be used as a means of distraction for you. As for any other visitors they must schedule a visitation time and have consent from yourself, Dr. Jekyll. All visitors will be thoroughly searched, even Dr. Lanyon. We can't have outsiders bringing in weapons or other unprescribed narcotics.” Dr. Sweard chuckled lightly, but then tightened his posture and lips when he realized the sensitivity of the subject and Robert’s hard stare. He stuttered out with a nervous smile, “D—do either of you gentlemen have any other questions regarding this house and my practice?” Robert spoke:—

“Will Henry or I be able to access any needed materials? Such as blankets, towels, soap?”

“Residents and visitors cannot access materials, but there are plenty of staff in these halls that are willing to assist in providing supplies as needed.”

Robert nodded and asked, “How long will it be until withdrawal symptoms start to show?”

Dr. Seward only averted his gaze to fall on Henry with an uneasy expression. Lanyon looked down to see Henry lying, curled in a ball; shaking, sweating, and cold. 


	12. Davy Jones's Locker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll takes a journey into the mind of Edward Hyde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: Nonsexual nudity, choaking, and drowning

* * *

Three weeks into treatment. 

Henry sat in the copper tub, filled with lukewarm water. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the sheen that swirled on the surface of the onyx abyss. His knobby bruised knees were stark in contrast against the dark water. It was four in the morning, Robert had to leave the day before to take care of some business concerning the Society. Around midnight Henry was vomiting, then dry heaving, then sweating. He had gotten out of bed, shaking, and only wrapped in a damp sheet, as he filled the tub with scalding hot water; it had helped a bit for his chills and aching bones but not by much. 

Staring between his gray knees, Jekyll watched as a gossamer pale green mist floated up from the deathly still water on the other side of the bath. It took form, Hyde’s apparition danced like light at the bottom of a pool as a cheshire cat grin formed on his face. His pupils were slender vertical knife slashes in a gelid green canvas, the sheer inkiness of them was mesmerizing. Henry found himself sinking into the water as Edward’s pitch black pupils expanded, swallowing his counterpart in, as Jekyll’s head dipped below the surface of the thickly suffocating liquid. Henry started to panic as the slick oil filled his orifices, he was falling in a great expanse of nothing, and he couldn’t tell left from right, up from down. It was a forever starless night. Hyde’s eyes were the size of houses as they pushed Henry further down into the darkness. His pupils were just as stygian as the water that surrounded them both, and the diverse shades of neon green that made up his irises swirled and stretched, seemingly being continuously sucked into his pupils as if it was a black hole swallowing a star on a permanent loop. 

Henry was choking on nothing when Edward’s disembodied eyes poke, his voice echoey and distorted, “ _I know what your mind looks like… It’s soooo cluttered and full of…thingsss… It’s a maze and I have to be careful where I step, lest I stomp out a precious memory… There's soooo many dooooors, and hallsss, and stairwells twisting and swirling every which way… I can see why you’ve gone craaazzzy…”_ Hyde’s massive eyes darted back and forth, “ _Thisss…is my mind!”_

Edward’s eyes swirled into vortexes of green smoke, floating down to Henry in a more familiar shape, he chided again:—

“ _Looook at you… Vulnerable and quite literally naked.”_ Noticing that his counterpart was leaking darkness from his eyes, nose, and mouth, Hyde stated, “ _If you believe you truly are drowning you will drown. Imagine you can breath and you’ll be able to, if you can find something like imagination in that untidied mind of yours. The only thing you're good at coming up with and believing is your own LIES. I think you lost the ability to imagine and create long before I was born. I was just the result of one man who decided to make the dream of thousands come true, every man wants to do what you did.”_

“What is it Hyde!” Jekyll spat out, still heaving for air as tears started to pour from his eyes mixing with the thick glistening oil.

_“Play God.”_

… 

Henry clawed at his own throat as he sank further and further away from the ghostly green form that was Edward. Like light dancing on the bottom of a pool. All of a sudden he was jerked up, as if by invisible strings, from his arms and head. Henry looked up to see the green mist holding the controls of a marionette and a wicked smile on his face as he pulled Jekyll up in one swift motion. Henry was miniature again as he fearfully stared into the more solid face of his counterpart, his arms held above his head with the occasional glint of light hopping from one unseen string to another. 

_“Now, now, dear Jekyll!”_ Hyde’s voice was happily enthusiastic, then it turned threateningly grave, _“It is my turn to play God. If there is one thing you can believe, deep down you know it to be true, that I have always been the one who’s had control over you. Yes, you have the power to kill me, but I have the power to let you live your life. I can’t even count how many times you’ve had to leave parties, or dinners, or whatever it may be because of me.”_

_…_

_“You fear my power. You fear me!”_

Henry was fuming, he had finally been able to suck in a breath of air, relieving himself from being on the cusp of drowning but never truly being relieved by death. He used this air to shout as he struggled on the strings that bound his wrists to the puppet master. “I do not fear you!” 

_“Ah, you see, if you didn’t fear me I would be the marionette.”_

“But this is your mind, that could never happen, you have control!”

_“This is OUR mind you fool! Even in our mind you don’t believe in anything, especially in yourself!”_ Hyde mocked with a crazed chuckle. 

Henry sank on the strings letting them hold him up as the thin wire cut into his wrists. 

_“Already giving up I see, well that was quick! Unfortunate, I was excited to taunt Robert and make you squeal.”_

“Don’t you _dare_ even mention his name!”

_“What would he say if he saw you like this? Exposed... I know! We’ll put you in something more comfortably presentable.”_ With that tendrils of pinks and purples came from Hyde and wrapped around Jekyll in a vice like tightness, they formed into elegant fabrics of all kinds, and pretty white laces and pink bows. Henry hung, humiliated from the strings, his head bent down trying to see his feet past the floof of the doll-like dress. “ _That’s much better! You know this is how Robert sees you, a helpless little plaything.”_ Henry started crying tears of humility and rage. “ _He sees you’re weak, and pities you.”_

“Shut up.”

_“What was that?”_

“I said, shut the FUCK up!” Henry screamed as he snapped the wires from his wrists and tore the dress from his body. He launched himself at regular sized Hyde, strangling him as tight as he could. Edward started laughing maniacally as he gently held his counterpart’s wrists. His cackling immediately ceased, his smile dropped, and his eyes were wide. He started gasping for air as Jekyll pushed harder and harder; Hyde’s hands hit and clawed at the ones around his throat but they didn’t even flinch. Henry’s red eyes were locked with green as his face contorted into sheer revenge.

“This _is_ our mind isn’t it? I _believe_ it is! And I believe that I am strangling you to death, and if I believe it so do you!” Henry's smile was insane and Edward’s was mortified. 

Jekyll burst through the water, panting, to find he was sitting in the copper tub, this time alone. He glanced at his arms, oil residue slipped from them, looking at them again there were just small droplets of clear water sliding down his skin into the cold liquid. He raised his hands from the water and saw deep cuts on his wrists heals as he held them closer. Henry could sense Edward's presence. He knew he could never truly kill Hyde with out his own demise, they were and would always be the same mind and soul, just with two bodies. 


	13. Beautiful Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll spirals into a heavy depression, Edward Hyde tried to mend wounds, and Robert Lanyon nurses his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: mentioned past self-harm

* * *

It had been a month and a half since Henry was admitted to Dr. John Seward’s house. 

Rosy light danced through the floor length window in Henry’s room. Robert had his shirt sleeve rolled up past his elbows as he sat on a small stool at the head of the large copper tub, massaging soap into Henry’s scalp. Jekyll was despondent, his head was turned to the empty room, his eyes glazed over. It seemed as if all he did was float in the dark oily waters of the tub, his skin pruning until he could almost wrinkle in on himself. He hoped it would happen.

_“Symptoms include; agitation, anxiety, muscle aches, increased tearing, insomnia, sweating, yawning, abdominal cramping, diarrhea, dilated pupils, goosebumps, nausea, and vomiting. Well the good news is you haven’t had diarrhea! Yet...”_ Edward had come back and was attempting to keep Henry’s spirits up in his own unique way.

Jekyll groaned. 

Robert hummed a soft tune as he washed his friend’s shoulders with the warm water and soap. He had not slept for a week, both night and day he was at Dr. Seward’s house fretting over the ill man, but he attempted to keep his mood light for Henry. Lanyon cradled a limp dainty wrist as he raised it to wash one of Jekyll’s arms. He turned it slightly to see the small white crisscrossing scars that marked the span of his friend's forearm. There was a pause as Robert recalled the painful memories. He was grateful that this time there was really no way Jekyll could physically hurt himself during this almost relapse of a second recovery. The sponge was soft and thick and was kind on the pale skin; the older doctor washed the other arm gently. Scooping up a cupful of warm water from the bath, Robert tilted Henry’s head back, he closed the russet eyes with light fingers and held his nose so as no water would spill into it. Lanyon poured a small stream of the water over the sallow face as he flowed his humming into words:—

“Fhir a leadain thlàth, dh'fhàg thu mi fo bhròn… Fhir chul dualaich chleachdaich, 's bòidhche snuadh ri fhaicinn, tha do ghaol an tasgaidh, 'n seòmar glaist' 'nam fheòil…”

“ _Lad of beautiful hair, you’ve left me in despair…”_

“Fhir a leadain chraobhaich, b'òg a rinn thu m'aomadh, thug thu mi o m'dhaoine, a fhuair mo shaothair òg…”

“ _Lad of beautiful hair, you’ve left me despair…”_

“Fhir a leadain laghaich, 's tu mo rùn 's mo roghainn, nan sguireadh tu thaghail, 's an tigh 's am bi'n t-òl…”

“ _Lad of beautiful hair, you’ve left me in despair…”_

“An toiseach a' gheamhraidh, 's ann a ghabh mi geall ort, shaoil leam gum bu leam thu, 's cha do sheall thu'm chòir…”

“ _Lad of beautiful hair, you’ve left me in despair…”_

“'N gàire rinn mi'n uiridh, chuir mo cheum an truimead, 's mise tha gu duilich, 's muladach mo cheòl… Fhir a leadain thlàth, dh'fhàg thu mi fo bhròn.”

….

Robert heaved Henry from the bath, stood him upright on shaking legs, dressed him, and toted him like a child in his arms to the bed. He laid him under thick blankets and prepared a glass of water, washbasin, and towel for the night’s extremities. During the whole process, Henry was incoherent, his eyes staring blankly at nothing. Lanyon knew he was depressed, be it a withdrawal symptom or his situation, there was no pulling the man from his current state of grief. How could Robert? The man was in constant physical and mental pain, he was regularly paranoid, he was constantly soaked with sweat, and he tossed and turned with fever dreams each night; never sleeping a wink. All Robert could do was simply be by his friend’s side. 

The night was dark when Robert slipped into the small bed next to Henry. The house staff had brought in a second bed for him, seeing as he spent all his nights there, but knew he would not sleep anyways, Henry needed him. He needed someone to hold him in the night when his fits were at their worst and he needed someone to support the wash basin for him when he vomited and he needed someone there that cared for him even if he could do nothing to show his gratitude. 

….

Turning over to the small bedside table, Robert turned up the oil lamp just enough to squint at the time on his pocket watch. Midnight. It was only midnight. He had been able to steal moments of precious sleep, but Henry’s stirring kept him up. Lanyon laid back down, after a while there was a moment when Jekyll was still and he dozed, only to realize something might be wrong. He flipped from facing the room to facing Henry’s back. Robert listened. There were faint sniffles coming from the dark form beside him; reaching out he placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder. Henry jumped at the touch and let out a small queak of a noise. Lanyon rolled him over so they faced each other. It was dark, but both their eyes had adjusted to it. Holding his friend around the middle with his free arm, Robert whispered:—

“Henry, why are you crying? You know you can wake me if anything is the matter.” 

The ill man rubbed his eyes with the backs and palms of his hands as he blubbered, “I hadn’t the slightest clue you knew gaelic.”

“Is that what you’re upset about?” Robert cooed.

“It was a foolish thought, never you mind. I—I had not an inkling about how little I know of you.”

“Henry, it’s not foolish. There are many things you don’t know about me, and there are many things I don’t know about you. But don’t be upset by this.” Robert comforted. 

“Why not? I’ve known you for so long and I’m—,”

He interrupted, “We have all the time in the world to learn more about each other.”

“Because I’m stuck here?”

“No, Henry. Because we’ll be together forever.” Robert brushed Henry’s hair from his sticky forehead as he held his friend. “Besides, that’s the only gaelic I know, my mother used to sing it to me when I was young.” 

“Oh,” Jekyll whispered. “What is the song about?”

“ _It’s about you, Henry.”_

“You.”

…. 

“Robert, I have to vomit.”

It was three o’clock in the morning and Lanyon almost didn’t register what Henry had said before he shot bolt upright and swung the washbasin into his friend’s hands. Robert looked away as he heard Henry heave into the washbasin, the bile making a foul sloshing sound. 

“Oh God, Robert. It hurts, it hurts so much. I can’t take this anymore,” Jekyll tightened as he attempted to hold back another wave of throw up. 

“Henry, you have to let it go, it’ll just hurt even more if you don’t. You'll feel better after—here, you can hold my hand as tightly as you need.” He was hesitant, but then took Robert’s soft hand in his clammy one. Robert searched Henry’s bloodshot eyes, “It’s okay. I’m here for you.” 

“I’m so tired.”

“I know.”

“But I can’t sleep a wink.”

“I know.”


	14. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll is released from Dr. John Seward's home and realizes that, sometimes a change is for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spelling mistakes may appear
> 
> Warning: None for this chapter

* * *

“This is it, Hyde! We’re finally free!” Henry smiled as he dressed himself in his daywear. It was a familiar and pleasant change from the constant white of his issued hospital wear. “Five long months of treatment and I’m finally free of this place.”

_“It will be nice to be back at the Society again. Lanyon somehow kept it afloat. I haven’t the foggiest how he did it, considering the fact that he’s basically been living here…”_ Edward delved into thought.

“We’re not going back to the Society, Hyde.”

_“I mean he must have been sending money or letters or something, wait, what?”_ He had finally processed Henry’s words. _“What_ — _what do you mean? Who’s running it? What about the lodgers? What about Jasper and Rachel? Jekyll, what’s going on!”_

Henry adjusted his crimson cravat in the mirror with arrogant confidence. “I am quite happily free of that place. Robert and I decided to hand it over to Frankenstein since the lodgers clearly adore her more than they do me. The exhibition stressed me to no end. I was doubtful that it would have happened anyways even if I was there, but since Frankenstein turned them on me, I, nor she, has to deal with any of it. As for Rachel and Jasper, I have given them four choices; to stay at the Society, to take a sustainable amount of cash for each of them I offered, to accept jobs Robert and I have found for them, or to come with me.”

_“How could you do this, Jekyll? The Society is your life and the lodger’s your family. You’re just fine with abandoning them in the hands of a mad woman who will surely run the Society free from fundings with her_ — _her_ — _madness?”_ Hyde was shocked. He wasn’t that fond of the place but he knew the work that his counterpart put into it and for him just to leave it like a dog in the rain. It was ridiculous. _“What has gotten into you, Henry?”_

Jekyll sighed, looking at the reflection of Edward in the mirror. He looked down and pressed his palms against the rim of the small porcelain sink below him. “I have seen these four identical white walls for five exhausting months, I have been through hell and back, I have gained new scars and had those of old reopened. It is time that my life changed for the better. Sometimes you just have to burn your house down and everything with it.” Edward listened intently. “The fact is I simply do not care anymore. I have worried and over thought too much and for too long; it is just killing me faster. The lodgers were, and still are my family, and if they are family they will understand that I have to leave. For my own health. I need a safe place where I won’t have to resort to narcotics because of the great weight pressing down on my shoulders. Do you understand?”

_“Yes…what of Rachel and Jasper then?”_

“They can choose their own destiny. Both are bright and young. They will make the right choices, unlike me.” 

…

The door opened and Henry turned on his heel. In walked Dr. Seward and Van Helsing. Seward, standing tall in his white surgeon's coat and Van Helsing’s piercing blue eyes staring into Henry’s soul. Dr. Seward spoke with a kind smile:—

“Are you ready, Dr. Jekyll?” 

“I think so,” he smiled with excitement as the doctor motioned for Henry to step out the door before them. He took one last look around the sun filled room, smiling at the pain and love. 

Henry left. 

…

Robert stood outside the house, reclining against his horse-drawn carriage. Wating. He closed his eyes and listened to the bird and the breeze as it tickled the leaves of the trees. He heard a door open and saw the most beautiful slight he had ever seen. Henry Jekyll stood on the steps of the blue Queen Anne that was Dr. Seward’s kind house of recovery. His auburn hair shone clean in the sunlight and his cheeks were rosy. The sun made a halo around him like an angel as he skipped down the steps. Henry stopped in front of Lanyon, his hands behind his back and a soft smile on his face when he spoke:—

“Hello Robert.”

“Hello Henry.”

“Did you collect my things?”

“Yes, I managed to grab your trunk without being noticed, surprisingly!” They chuckled.

“Did you find my laboratory materials alright? And my solutions? The green one in particular?”

“Yes I did.” Robert pulled a small vial of bright green liquid from his pocket and handed it to Henry.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we go?”

“I do believe we shall,” Henry smiled as Robert helped him into the cab like a proper gentleman. 

The hansom lurched and started it’s rattling journey down city streets and onto a country road. The two men sat close to each other. Henry’s hands in Robert’s. 

_“Where are we going, Henry?”_

“Where are we going, Robert?”

“The Swiss Alps. It’s beautiful there. We’ll live in a quaint cottage at the base of the mountains next to a lake filled by streams that flow from glaciers, so clear and icy that you can see the multi colored pebbles sparkling on the bottom. We’ll have a garden and fruit trees and we can catch fish from the lake whenever we please. I’ll learn to canoe and I’ll bring you with me so you can sing to the mountains. I’ll find you a piano so you can play whenever you please as well, and we’ll have a dog that shares our bed with us.” 

“Our bed?”

“Yes, just one big one.” 

“I can’t wait.” Henry smiled as he laid his head on Robert’s shoulder. 

….

“Robert?”

“Yes?”

Henry swallowed as he hesitated, “Remind—remind me to tell you something later.”

“Okay. May I inquire what it’s about?”

“You know how you said we’re going to learn more about each other?”

“Yes.”

“Well there’s just something I want you to learn about me.”

“I can’t wait!” 

_“Yes he can.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to not send Jekyll back to the Society because I've noticed a lot of movies and TV shows always end with the world, city, house, or whatever it is being restored back to normal. If a character is going to go through a life changing event they should come out different, and a good representation of that is by changing the environment itself as well or the character choosing to continue being different/continue the physical journey.
> 
> If anyone has questions, comments, concerns feel free to comment. Also if anyone has story suggestions or ideas for another fic or a continuation of this one I'll gladly take those. I'm bored.


End file.
